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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24511843">Worth Saving</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinguji/pseuds/shinguji'>shinguji</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bruises, Chronic Illness, Established Relationship, HPA au kind of, Hajime is a good boyfriend, Hurt/Comfort, If you make Life Alert jokes I’ll eat you, It’s not as dark as these tags make it sound I promise, Kinda, M/M, Mentions of Death, Mentions of cancer/chemotherapy, Rated T for slight language?, lots of forehead kisses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:21:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,795</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24511843</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinguji/pseuds/shinguji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Nagito needs help, it’s hard for him to ask for it. Thankfully, his boyfriend doesn’t know how to take “no” for an answer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>200</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Worth Saving</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I feel like no one really touches on the fact that is seriously disabled from supposedly having dementia and lymphoma, and I wanted to touch on the latter in this fic, or moreso the side effects of cancer treatment in general. This is more actually fluffy than you’re probably expecting, though, but please read the tags for other warnings just in case! Stay safe!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hajime?” Nagito asked weakly, his voice crackling through the phone receiver. “I’m sorry you had to answer the phone only to be disappointed by my pathetic voice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime narrowed his eyes. “I already knew it was you; I have your contact saved. Why’re you talking like that?” he asked, a bit worried by all the self-deprecation from his boyfriend. Nagito had, for the most part, gotten comfortable enough around Hajime and in his time as a student at Hope’s Peak that he rarely spoke poorly about himself anymore, unless he was prompted or upset by something and needed to cope with it. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, nothing, I just wanted to let you know that I fell in my dorm, so you might not see me until the janitors come by,” he said in a voice that was far too calm and upbeat. “I mean, assuming I haven’t collected dust and starved by then, but that would probably be good for—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t get up?” Hajime interrupted, cursing under his breath and leaving his own dorm as quickly as possible. “Shit, shit, shit… is your door unlocked?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito sighed in annoyance at that. “Hajime, you don’t have to come save me, you know. I’ve been saved from near death too many times. That’s the only reason I’m so weak like this, anyway. It’s so hopeless. Why won’t my luck let me die when the universe wants me dead, I wonder…?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime could barely listen to him ramble as he hurried down the hallway. “Shut up. You deserve to live,” he said under his breath. “I lo—there are people who love you, okay? You might not realize it, but it’s true. Is your door unlocked?” he asked again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It should be,” Nagito said, his voice resigned. “I try to leave it open in case anyone needs to barge in and use me for anything. It’s for the good of the Ultimates, but… ugh, I can’t believe you’re really trying to save me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wh… how could I </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>try to save you? I can’t just knowingly let you… stay stuck on the ground!” Hajime said carefully as he sped down the hallway, trying not to acknowledge the fact that Nagito might have actually died if he wasn’t able to reach his phone—the walls were soundproof, so he wouldn’t be able to scream for help, either, not that he would even attempt that. “Are you hurt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito began to say something, but before he could finish, Hajime was standing in his doorway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, hello,” Nagito said, looking up at Hajime from the carpeted floor, helpless. “Isn’t it pathetic? I used to be able-bodied… healthy and fit like any other teenage boy. Now I’m all feeble like this. I can barely feel my hands, Hajime. Aren’t I pitiful?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime was barely listening. He knelt beside Nagito, pressing a kiss to his forehead and feeling the feverish skin burn under his lips. It wasn’t surprising that he was sick again—Nagito’s immune system was essentially nonexistent since his chemotherapy—but Hajime couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that Nagito hadn’t told him. He just wanted to look out for him, to keep him from doing things like getting out of bed when he was sick and could hardly hold himself up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, Hajime couldn’t yell at Nagito when he was like this. He looked too helpless. Besides, yelling shouldn’t be Hajime’s knee-jerk reaction to things like this anyway. Instead, he just scanned Nagito’s body for bruises. “You’d tell me if you’d broken a bone, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Nagito said rather unconvincingly, grumbling in annoyance as Hajime tried to check for sprains. “I’m fine, really! You can just leave me here. I hope my body isn’t too disgusting… I could make a good lunch for the bugs.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you don’t have to talk about yourself like that!” Hajime shouted, his vision clouding up with very unwelcome tears. He shouldn’t be sad or scared about this; Nagito would be fine. “I looked this up last time, so hopefully I remember. Can you roll onto your side?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito mumbled something under his breath in protest but did as he was asked, and only then did Hajime notice a massive bruise on the back of Nagito’s leg, the sickening purple standing out harshly against his pale skin. Hajime lightly, carefully traced a fingertip over it but didn’t say anything—worrying over every little chemo bruise would only annoy Nagito, even if it was important. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Hajime sighed, trying to remember what to have him do next. Nagito had only fallen once before while they were together, and Hajime had had to Google just about everything. It was in the much earlier days of their relationship, so he wasn’t exactly used to the side effects of Nagito’s illnesses and luck cycle yet. Still, that didn’t make this time any less scary. “Can you sit up on your knees and prop yourself up with your hands?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I know, I know… I remember what to do, Hajime. You don’t need to fuss over me so much,” Nagito whined, slowly pushing himself off of the ground. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime winced at the pained expression on Nagito’s face. “I have every right to fuss over you! If I didn’t know to come here and help you… you could’ve died, Nagito,” he said, his bottom lip trembling against his will even as he bit down on it. “Do you need help sitting up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito shook his head and weakly pushed himself up as Hajime dragged over the only two chairs in Nagito’s dormitory. As soon as he set the chairs down, Nagito’s upper body collapsed against the one in front of his head. Instead of protesting or glaring at Hajime for trying to save him, he just coughed out a shaky, “Thank you,” his voice already much more breathless than it had been moments before. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Hajime assured him, trying to keep his nervous voice steady. He ran his hand over Nagito’s thin hair, feeling his burning forehead with the back of his hand again. Nagito still needed to push himself up onto one foot and fall back into the second chair behind him, but Hajime knew he needed to rest first. “You’re doing good. Take your time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two of them sat like that for a moment, Nagito pushing into Hajime’s touch every time his hands traced over his pale face, until Nagito steeled himself enough to place his foot flat on the floor and push himself up into the chair behind him. He immediately relaxed against it again, his body still shaking slightly with exhaustion. “I’m so sorry, Hajime,” he said, breathless. “You shouldn’t have had to save me. When will people stop saving me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When you stop being worth saving,” Hajime replied with a sigh, brushing stray hairs off of Nagito’s sticky forehead. “Sorry. That made more sense in my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito just blinked at him for a moment and looked down at his feet. “I get it, I think. Although I don’t think I, of all people, am really worth saving, but…” He trailed off, smiling thinly. “It’s nice that you care. I don’t know why you do, but it’s nice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime smiled back at him. That wasn’t much, but at least it was something. Hajime just hoped he could get Nagito out of this awful mood soon. “Can you stand up, or should I—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito cut him off by grabbing his shoulder and trying to pull himself up—at least he was actively trying to get up on his own now. After a few painfully slow attempts, Nagito dragged himself up onto wobbly legs. “Look! See? I’m fine!” he promised Hajime as he stumbled over nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re definitely not fine!” Hajime hastily wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and supported him for a moment until he could move a few feet across the room and sink onto his own bed. “There. Now, before you get all mad, I’m not leaving. You’re sick and I’m taking care of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito curled up, silent, and pulled a blanket over his legs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need anything?” Hajime asked after a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. “Have you had any water today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still silent, obviously irritated by the fact that Hajime was trying to help him. “No,” he mumbled after a moment. Hajime half-expected Nagito to follow it with a “but I don’t need any,” but, instead, he stayed quiet, a small but grateful smile on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Hajime said, still trying to calm himself after everything that had happened. “Okay. I’ll go get you some. I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Hajime stood up to head to the dining hall and get some water, he noticed Nagito weakly lift his right hand in the corner of his vision. When he turned back toward him, Nagito quickly shoved his hand down, but not before Hajime noticed and understood what he wanted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sat on the bedside again, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and kissing his cheek softly. Nagito’s skin was still burning up—Hajime made a mental note to bring him a washcloth for his forehead when he came back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You dote on me too much,” Nagito said, lifting his shaky arms to hug Hajime back. “I’m sick all the time, you know. I can take care of myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime laughed at that. “But it’s easier like this, yeah? And I know you like me doting on you anyway.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shh, it’s okay,” Hajime said, laughing again as he smoothed down Nagito’s hair. “I like doting on you too, you dork.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nagito grinned that adorable grin of his, the one Hajime only got to see when he was really happy, and leaned up to kiss him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime, however, pulled away after just a few seconds—Nagito’s chapped lips were hot and feverish, and it reminded Hajime that he probably hadn’t had anything to drink in at least a day. “Your lips are all sticky,” he teased jokingly. “Let me go so I can go get you some water, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Nagito grumbled, like letting him go was the worst thing in the world. “Come back soon, okay?” he added quietly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hajime was still unbelievably worried, of course, about Nagito, the huge bruise on his leg, and his sudden sickness, and he was certainly no expert on Nagito’s illnesses, but all he could do was do his best to take care of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So when he brought a glass of water back to Nagito’s dorm, he made sure to bring a damp washcloth, something for lunch, and more than enough kisses and cuddles to last the evening (and there were plenty more where those came from).</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! :) It was interesting to write Nagito and Hajime respectively; they’re both characters with interesting personalities and a great dynamic, but I don’t write them nearly enough. Anyway, as always, feel free to leave any feedback you’d like. &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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